Destiny: A Prince of Persia Fanfiction
by your.lip.balm
Summary: When a thief meets a disguised Prince, an inevitable chain of events will weave their lives together on a journey that will uncover secrets, truths, and emotions. A mysterious dagger entwined with the Sands of Time will bring forth the Destiny that calls.
1. Hello, Thief

**A/N: I have kept the original storyline in the movie, but with different twists. Some of the characters are the same with the same roles and the same appearances, but I have added new ones and elaborated and created new things to make the story a bit more dramatic. I also had to change a few parts in the movie for the story to make sense. I hope you all enjoy and comments are very appreciated. Thank you.**

**Disclaimer: I do not own Prince of Persia: The Sands of Time. The following is a work of fiction. **

**Destiny**

_A Prince of Persia Fanfiction_

_**001 Hello, Thief  
**_

Pulling the auburn cloak down to hide my long dark tresses and bright emerald eyes, I watched as the fruit vendor talked animatedly with a customer. He gestured with his calloused hands at the tall man that stood a few feet from him. The vendor's rough voice bartered at length with the tall man who with closer inspection was quite handsome. Long layered brown hair framed his gorgeous face and as he returned the vendor's gestures with his own, sapphire eyes filled with cunning and intelligence beamed from its' depths. As they both continued to haggle without coming to a conclusion, I smiled at my good fortune. Hoping that their conversation would distract themselves, I slipped my hand from underneath my cloak and reached for the shiny red apple that sat on top of the small stack of fruits. As my slender fingers wrapped around the smooth surface of the apple, I quickly glanced at the two men. My furtive glance locked with the tall handsome man. My body froze as if an invisible force held me rooted there. Movement escaped me as I stared at him. Surprise flashed within his eyes for a moment and then was replaced with an intense interest. His hypnotizing gaze suddenly sent strange tremors through my body that made me drew in a quick breath in alarm.

The abrupt absence of his customer's attention drove the fruit vendor to turn around and I knew in that instant that I was going to get caught. Panic squeezed my insides as my fingers slowly released the apple. I stiffened as if I was ready to bolt out of there but to my utter shock, the tall man quickly grabbed the vendor's shoulder and twisted him so that his line of sight didn't fall on me. This small miracle gave me the chance to step away from the fruit stall and blend into the crowded marketplace.

Relief washed over me as I continued walking away down the dirt lane. Peeking behind my small shoulders, my gaze once again fell on the stunning man who kept on giving me clandestine looks of curiosity. I quickly turned away and proceeded through the maze of alleyways that snaked through the city. The pounding of my heart finally subsided as the distance between the marketplace and I widened.

At last, I reached the small alcove that marked the entrance to my small hovel. Leaning against the white washed stone wall, I shook my head. Although reprieve satisfied my shuddering body, hunger clawed at my stomach. It has been a day and I had not eaten. I sighed heavily and then jumped a mile in the air as a voice appeared at my shoulder.

"Hello, thief."

I shrieked and whirled around to find my stunned self staring at the man who had just saved me from an agonizing hanging. He drew back and leaned against the wall. Within his tall frame was a muscular body, broad at the shoulders and slim at the waist. Adorning this attractive structure were burgundy sashes that hung from his neck over the whites and blues of his cloth robe. A belt of leather encased his waist where a long wicked sword rested beneath its' dark sheath. I raised my eyes from his weapon up to his captivating face.

"Why did you do that?" I spluttered, trying to calm my nerves but failing desperately. An astonishing grin emerged on his lips as heat burned my cheeks.

"You mean when I scared you now or when I saved you back there?" he replied in an impish way that reflected in his eyes. Fingering my cloak, I tore my gaze away from his and tried to focus on the dirt road beneath his boots. The sudden effect he had on me was overwhelming and so strange I couldn't understand it.

"Uh, when you saved me back there," I finally uttered in a quiet voice. I chanced another glance into his clear azure eyes. The playful look abruptly disappeared, replaced with a vague glaze of reminiscence.

"I did it because I know the face of hunger when I see one," he responded and pushed away from the stone wall. Taking a step toward me, his features softened. "And you...the face of a beautiful thief hungers for this..." With that last word, he pulled from within his robes a shiny red apple. He extended his hand out, waiting for me to retrieve the fruit. The sight of the apple made my stomach churn greedily. I grabbed it from his awaiting fingers and noticed the way his brief touch lingered on my skin.

"Thank you," I breathed and diverted my gaze everywhere but his gorgeous face.

"Perhaps, as a gesture of gratitude, would you like to join me on an adventure?"

"What sort of adventure?" I queried, suddenly suspecting treachery. He smiled and took yet another step toward me. I was aware of how close he stood and yet I made no move to step back.

"A journey to the top of the palace," he answered smoothly. I wrinkled my nose and raised a curved eyebrow.

"Hardly an adventure," I said disbelievingly, shaking my head. "What is so adventurous about going up to the palace? That place is a fortress, guarded by dozens of soldiers. The main road is the only way to get there and the guards will see you approaching."

"Not where I'm planning on going," he answered, secretively. "And besides the view is spectacular."

"The view is just fine from anywhere in the city. Nasaf is built on a mountain overlooking a valley," I protested, clearly not impressed.

"Not where I'm planning on going," he repeated once again. I frowned having no idea what he was talking about. "Would you care to accompany me?"

I hesitated, not sure if I could trust this stranger. I barely knew him and here he was offering to take me to the palace where only the royal family and nobles lived. And then I thought about what he did in the marketplace and I felt I owed him a debt, and if it is humoring him by going to the palace then so be it. Maybe he will reconsider once the soldiers spy us from their perches and hiding spots.

"Alright," I agreed and nodded. He smiled and my heart flipped within my chest. The sensation was strangely satisfying.

"I'll meet you here tomorrow night," he replied and leaned forward. His handsome face was so close to mine that I could feel his breath on my cheeks. "What is your name?" he whispered, softly.

"Lillei."

"My name is Dastan."

**©yourlipbalm 2010. All rights reserved. Distribution of any kind is prohibited without the written consent of yourlipbalm.**


	2. A Bit of Climbing

**Destiny**

_A Prince of Persia Fanfiction_

_**002 A Bit Of Climbing**_

The early evening light was beginning to diminish as I turned to look at Dastan. He fitted gloves onto his hands and pulled his maroon head scarf over his head, obscuring his face. After a few more adjustments to his belt and clothing, he turned his attention to me. Dastan reached over and pulled the pale sash around my neck so that it too covered my head. Then with a dashing smile, he then suddenly grasped my arms and hoisted me onto his back. I was so consumed with surprise that I gasped. The solidity of his muscular back made me feel oddly pleased and as he squeezed my hands together underneath his neck, that bizarre sensation intensified.

"Hold on tight. We're going to be doing a bit of climbing," Dastan revealed and patted my legs. He then proceeded to grab the low stone wall that we were standing next to and began climbing onto the brick and straw huts that littered the city walkways. As he grabbed ledges with expert precision and jumped over buildings with blinding accuracy, I realized that he was quite skilled at acrobatics. I clung onto his back with a mix of fear and awe. Heights weren't something that I fancy and the situation rather made me feel childish with me riding on his back like a little girl, but as he climbed higher the landscape of the city melting into the valley began growing in beauty. Domes of exquisite splendor littered the rooftops coupled with spires of the various temples. The city walls were faint in the distance and beyond the desert stretched for miles.

When we neared the palace walls, my skin was sticky and hot and as I shifted slightly I noticed that Dastan was slick with sweat. Concern propelled me and I leaned close to his matted hair. The wet locks brushed my cheek in soft flourishes.

"Perhaps we should stop so you can rest," I offered, feeling the heat from his body fuse into mine. He grunted in answer and soon let me off on a high hanging ledge that was narrow but solid. I watched as he wiped the moisture from his forehead and arms with his robes. His marvelous face was as ravishing as ever even though it dripped of his sweat.

"You are heavier than you look!" Dastan sighed and peered at me with eyes simmering with fire. My face burned in a crimson blush that he must have noticed, because he smiled awkwardly and looked away only to quickly contemplate me with his stare once more.

"Do you often take strange women on adventures like this?"

Dastan chuckled uncomfortably and shyly tried to not blush. A small smile appeared at the corners of my lips.

"No. You are the first," he admitted and rubbed his gloved hands. "Shall we?"

"Are you rested enough?"

"Do not worry about me," Dastan said and reached for my hands. And yet I did worry, because although he seemed very confident in his skills, I feared that one misstep or error would result in the both of us toppling down into the cobbled alleys. When we reached the central spire of the palace, successfully eluding the watchful eyes of the soldiers, Dastan grabbed a circular railing that I hadn't noticed before and with muffled difficulty attempted to lift me onto the precarious metal ledge that ringed the tower.

"Do you have it?" he said, his voice strained in an effort to support his weight and mine. My fingers reached for the balustrade, the tips of my fingernails going ever closer that I finally felt the rough metal underneath my skin. I shifted my body so that I could grasp the railing better, but I began slipping from his back and as I clutched at his shoulder with my other hand in an attempt to hold on, gravity pulled me down and I lost my grip. My voice died in my throat as I felt myself sliding into nothingness.

With a swiftness that appalled me, Dastan twisted around. With one hand gripping the railing, he seized me around the waist and crushed me against his body to quell the momentum that my slip had caused. We dangled in midair; Dastan clutching onto the ringed spire and I holding onto him for dear life. My breathing was fast, my heart pumping at irregular speeds. I tore my terror stricken eyes from the pavement far below and met Dastan's eyes. Concern flared in those orbs and yet another elusive emotion flitted in and out of his gaze.

"I won't let you fall," he promised. Those words comforted me even if it was a small consolation, I knew it to be true from the growing tenderness that blazed from his eyes.

"Alright...okay," I whispered, trying to remain calm. I proceeded to climb past him onto the ledge, being careful not to do anything foolish. He followed and stood next to me panting for much needed air. "That's twice you have saved me in two days. How can I ever repay you?" I said, my chest heaving with huge gulps of air. Dastan smiled and looked at me with a mysterious glare.

"Just enjoy this moment with me and that is all the payment I require," he answered. I turned my gaze to the horizon and discovered a landscape of utter beauty. Twilight had descended on the city creating shadows that drifted through the dirt lanes in patchy swatches of gray. Beyond the outer gates, where the desert reached into oblivion, where sand and sky met, was the orange glow of the setting sun. Its' diminishing rays cast long ocher bands of light that made the ascending night almost magical. It was the most dazzling and radiant thing I have ever seen. Dastan was right. The view from up here was splendidly spectacular. Awe created a grin that spread on my face.

"Thank you...thank you for bringing me up here. I will never forget it," I exclaimed and drank in the gorgeous scene. I felt his fingers curl around my left hand and the warmth that emanated from them soothed my heart.

"Neither will I."

**©yourlipbalm 2010. All rights reserved. Distribution of any kind is prohibited without the written consent of yourlipbalm.**


	3. A Wandering Merchant You Say?

**Destiny**

_A Prince of Persia Fanfiction_

_**003 A Wandering Merchant You Say?**_

As Dastan and I reveled in the beauty of the rapidly approaching dusk, the mysterious sunset stirred in me curious questions about my rescuer. I practically knew nothing of him, so I took this opportune moment to delve a little deeper.

"Dastan, what exactly do you do?" I asked and glanced at his handsome face. His long hair swayed gently in the breeze as he suddenly hesitated, a guarded expression masking his strong features.

"Me?" he delayed. "I...I am a wandering merchant," he finally spoke and then continued in a rather hurried explanation. "It's my first venture into Nasaf and I decided to try my luck here where they say a slave can become a noble over night."

I scrutinized his face and knew that he was obviously lying. I was not upset, but interest and disbelief clouded my mind. Narrowing my eyes, a small smile formed on my lips.

"A wandering merchant you say?" I replied, teasingly. Dastan raked his fingers through his hair and cleared his throat as if distracted. "A wandering merchant who can expertly climb Nasaf's walls like an experienced veteran, whom has just said he only newly arrived; a wandering merchant who has no goods to sell, whom was just bartering with a vendor just yesterday; a wandering merchant you say?"

"Alright, alright I am not a merchant!" Dastan surrendered and held up his hands.

"Then what are you? A cutthroat?"

"Lillei, honestly if I was a cutthroat I would have cared less if that vendor saw you," Dastan defended and crossed his arms above his chest. He raised an eyebrow at me quizzically like I was out of my mind.

"You still haven't answered me," I pointed out and waited expectantly. He stalled for time by clearing his throat once again and then fiddling with his crimson head scarf. Cautiously, he began speaking carefully with guarded tones.

"I am a commoner born to common folk, here in the slums of Nasaf. My parents died when I was seven. I grew up in the dirty streets, sleeping on people's doorsteps, stealing from the marketplace, and scraping a living off of odd jobs given to me by people who pitied me."

Dastan stared off into the darkening horizon and his eyes seemed to be in a different time, a place in his past.

"I became a rebel and learned my skills by myself. I discovered that Nasaf's buildings were all constructed to be connected to each other. A precaution the King had crafted to allow his people multiple escape routes if the city should ever be breached. There were plenty of ledges and tiers built into the walls for sure footing when hiding and escaping from soldiers. It was a lifestyle that I embraced, because there was no other way of life for me."

Dastan's words wove their harsh truth to match mine and I felt a growing connection with him that I found startling.

"As I found new paths up higher toward the palace, I watched from afar the king's soldiers sparring and I followed their actions, memorizing the moves that I know today. I especially enjoyed it when the king's sons practiced swordsmanship. They were flawless in every way."

"You have seen the three princes?" I inquired with interest. Curiosity made me tilt my head and I pondered what they would look like. I imagined exquisitely handsome faces adorned with crowns of gold and layers of jewel woven cloaks that trailed two feet after their exalted steps. I remembered the citizens talking about how the first two eldest brothers were of royal blood, but the youngest prince was a stray that the King picked up one day in the streets. But then others would argue that the youngest prince was actually of royal blood but his mother was a consort to the King. There were so many rumors that circulated the city about the identity of the third prince, but none of this matters now because years have gone by and the King has managed to raise his sons up to govern the city well.

"They are very humorous to watch, because they often joke around," Dastan explained and turned his mesmerizing eyes to mine. "You have never seen them before?"

"Of course not! I am only a lowly commoner, I would never have a chance to see what they look like much less stand in the same room with them! I don't even know their names!" I exclaimed and shook my head. Dastan laughed and I stared at him like he was an insane person.

"I understand," he replied after quieting down. He then continued to stare at me with that intense burning gaze.

"What?" I quickly asked and brushed my long hair away from my face.

"And what about you? What is your life story?"

I swallowed the cyclone of feelings twirling in my heart and tried to keep a straight face. Licking my lips, I took a breath and spoke.

"I was born here in Nasaf to a wealthy merchant. My father was a tapestry vendor and my mother was a robe maker. They were both successful at what they did, bringing in a fair amount of money to support my sister and I. Although my father was a good man, he had a temper and often swindled our family investments so that he could have a bit more to drink or a bit more to spend on his drinking. One day some men came to our house and demanded payment of the money they had loaned to my father. When my parents could not pay them back, the men tore our house apart and raped my mother in front of my father while my sister and I hid in our tiny bedroom."

I did not realize that tears were running down my cheeks until the small droplets cooled on my face. Dastan looked at me with distress, unease and pain filled his charming features. Ignoring the moisture on my face, I continued to speak.

"I was so afraid then. I ushered my sister out our small window and we ran down the street. I never saw my parents again, nor my house, nor any of my family's belongings. My sister and I lived on the streets, begging for food and receiving disapproving glances instead. Six months later, after a wild fever that lasted four days, my sister died in my arms. She was nine and too young. I was twelve and on my own and have been ever since."

I grew quiet, remembering faces from memories that were old and tattered with age. Longing for those faces intensified and I was astonished that it still hurt after so many years. I had blocked the pain with keeping myself alive, numbing my senses into a state of withdrawal. But this retelling of a part of my past that I had kept hidden opened a wound that I thought had healed.

Dastan's fingers suddenly appeared at the fringes of my vision. He touched my face where the tears had stained and traced the wet path down to my chin. His touch was electrifying and yet tender all the same.

"It's our past that shapes us into who we are now," Dastan said softly and retrieved his hand from my face. I sniffed and wiped the excess tears from my cheeks. Taking a deep breath, I forced the pain to dissipate and bent to look at him. Dastan was gazing at me with an unknown intent; odd how two strangers could suddenly become closer in a span of a few hours.

"How do we get down from here?" I asked and searched unsuccessfully for a way out. "You are not going to carry me down, are you?"

"Was it that bad?" he countered. I shook my head and honestly I didn't think it was that horrible, although the jostling around made me a bit nauseated.

"No, it's just that I don't want to die just yet."

Dastan chuckled and grasped my hand. He motioned to a hidden square hatch in the rough surface of the tower. The night had obscured it from my vision, but it was clearly there, cleverly hidden within the framework of the spire.

"That is our way down," Dastan declared and reached for the iron lever. With a swift pull, the secret hatch opened soundlessly.

"But that leads inside the palace!" I whispered, urgently. He brushed my comment aside and pulled me down the ladder that descended into dimness. Uncertain, but seeing no other way, I had no choice but to follow him. I stepped down from the iron bars and Dastan helped me by lifting me off the ladder. His touch still sent chills up and down my spine and tremors to erupt on the surface of my skin. In that moment of intimate closeness, our eyes met and for a brief instant, something wonderful unveiled between us. A feeling like no other and yet the emotion still escaped my mind.

_Do I really like him that much?_ I suddenly pondered as my heart answered for me. A gentle smile played on Dastan's lips as he took my hand and furtively glanced around the small space. We were in a stock room, littered with crates of goods with a single windowed door at the far end. I followed him to the wooden entry and waited as he cautiously looked through the barred window into an empty corridor. I could see a set of stairs leading down opposite ends.

Dastan put a single finger to his lips in a recognizable gesture and quietly opened the door. He led me out into the silent hallway where torches lined the length in brackets that cast strange shadows on the brick walls. As we approached the steps leading down, a flurry of movement from the opposite ends of the stairway caused us to take a few steps back. The grating of metal against sheath rang in the air as armed soldiers came pouring out of the narrow opening. Voices rang out in alarm as several of the mobilized men began surrounding Dastan and I. Panic erupted in my chest as the din continued around us. Dastan immediately put himself in front of me, shielding me from the swords and spears that were dangerously close. My eyes were wide with alarm, my body trembled with dismay and I clutched fearfully onto Dastan's right hand, waiting for the worse.

"Intruders!" a lone soldier cried out, his steel weapon poised ready to strike. The multi-hued armor he wore glistened underneath the torch light. His fierce gaze fell upon Dastan and his whole demeanor changed as recognition flashed across his face. Quickly motioning for the rest of the soldiers to stop, the sword in his hands clattered to the floor. The soldier fell to his knees and bowed at Dastan's feet like a servant. All the other men did the same. Their weapons were discarded as they too fell to their knees. The whole spectacle was so absurd that confusion began creeping into my mind.

"My Prince!" the first soldier who collapsed to his knees cried out from the floor. That single word echoed in my mind like thunder long after the sound was gone. It reverberated and so shocked me that I was instantly numb with feeling.

"Prince?" I whispered as Dastan slowly turned to face me.

**©yourlipbalm 2010. All rights reserved. Distribution of any kind is prohibited without the written consent of yourlipbalm.**


	4. Thank You

**Destiny**

_A Prince of Persia Fanfiction_

_**004 Thank You**_

"Prince?" I repeated, not understanding and yet comprehending at the same time. Dastan looked at me with a mixture of shame and hurt. He drew me closer and said in a soft, pleading voice.

"I was going to tell you..."

I shook my head, utterly astounded and then the reality of who he really was collapsed on top of me. One of the Princes stood next to me, someone born of royal blood and here I was, a stupid commoner not knowing my place. I tore my hand from his and crashed onto the floor in a bow.

"No, Lillei! Please stand up," Dastan said and reached for me. I moved away, refusing to look at him. His tattered breath reached my ears as I cowered at his feet.

"I'm sorry, Your Highness. I did not know," I replied and heard a rustling of robes.

"Alim! Get these men out of here! Clear the passages!" Dastan's voice came out harsh and demanding, fitting of his rank. The anger in his tone was unmistakable. He had not intended for anyone to notice his little adventure. The soldiers retrieved their weapons and filed out in an orderly fashion. Dastan's hands came into my field of vision as he brought me to my feet. I stared adamantly at his broad chest, afraid to gaze upon someone whose life was valued so high above mine. With one solitary finger, Dastan lifted my chin up so that I was forced to peer into his beautiful eyes. The expression on his face was soft and gentle, exactly the opposite of the anger that had spewed from his mouth moments ago.

"Will you not give me a chance to explain?" he asked.

"Explain what?" I responded, hurt in my voice. "That you lied to me? That you pretended to be who you were not?"

"I...I..." Dastan faltered and briefly closed his eyes. I waited patiently for his answer, trying to read his thoughts through the expressions on his handsome face. He reopened his cerulean eyes and studied my face with a forced calm.

"All the things that I have told you about me living as a homeless boy were true. I did grow up on the streets, surrounded by poverty; living day to day with only the clothes on my back and the instinct of survival in my gut. One day in the marketplace, I saved my best friend from being hanged for stealing a loaf of bread to feed his own hungry stomach. Soldiers captured me, but the King had witnessed what had happened and he...took me in."

Dastan shook his head as if still not believing it himself.

"I do not know why he did it. But he gave me a home, a family; everything that I have never had."

I gawked at his striking face with awe, incredulity evident in my voice as I spoke.

"For once the rumors are true. _You_ are the youngest Prince."

"Yes...yes I am."

I released a gush of air from my mouth and smiled wonderingly. The shock of him being royalty was finally easing. I began to breathe normally, but I became uncomfortable in his presence when it did not bother me so much before.

"Come," Dastan gestured and led me toward the stairs. "I will take you home. There are secret passages throughout the palace. We will not be seen."

The cool night air caressed my skin, soothing and washing the heat of the day away. A slight breeze danced around my hair, pulling the strands so they floated in midair. The small alcove that marked the entrance to my stone dwelling greeted me with a lonely silence as I approached with soft footsteps. This evening had been quite interesting and although I secretly did not want it to end, the sun must rise to greet another morning.

I stopped by the low stone wall and peered at Dastan's shadowed figure in the dimness. True to his word, he had escorted me through the winding secret passageways contained within the palace and through the sleeping city.

"I hope you do not think less of me for not pouring my heart out with the truth," Dastan murmured in a deep quiet voice. I searched his attractive face for any trace of the gentleness that had so captivated me and found that it still glowed brightly despite the half light from the brilliant moon.

"I think, Dastan, that that was exactly what you did. Perhaps, not in so many words, but in the way you talked, you seemed...conflicted...lost."

He stared at me through the dark, his two eyes smoldering with understanding. Taking a step closer so that he leaned toward my face, Dastan spoke in hushed tones that sent icy shards through my body.

"Conflicted, yes. Lost? No longer."

He was so near that I could see the moisture on his lips. My eyes could not turn away and the more I resisted, the more I wanted to taste those lips. My beating chest thundered in my ears, drowning me in a cacophony of pounding sound. We stayed that way for what seemed like forever, frozen within an inch of each other, strayed into a trance that encased us with its' intense grasp. The complete look of compassionate affection in Dastan's dashing face intrigued my heart.

We both instantly snapped from our dreamy reverie and drew away from each other. He cleared his throat and ran his fingers through his long hair. I looked quickly away and abruptly realized I was oddly dissatisfied.

"Uh...thank you," I stammered, my nerves on fire, my face hot with unexpected heat. "It was a lovely adventure." I was not sure what was the proper etiquette to say farewell to a prince, so I proceeded to bend down and bow, but Dastan stopped me halfway and smiled.

"You don't have to do that," he said with warmth. "With you, I am not the Prince. I am only me."

I nodded and grinned shyly. Taking an involuntary step toward the closed door, I bid him goodbye and entered my small dark home. Dastan was still gazing at me as I shut the door behind me.

**©yourlipbalm 2010. All rights reserved. Distribution of any kind is prohibited without the written consent of yourlipbalm.**


	5. It Looks Dashing

**Destiny**

_A Prince of Persia Fanfiction_

_**005 It Looks Dashing**_

I sat underneath the shaded eaves of the open vendor stall glad that I was not working in the baking sun today. Scattered around me were rolls of silk fabrics that rested on low stools. Piles of clothing were stacked on a rather clean looking wooded counter that ran the length of the stall. The place was small, only wide enough to seat two people. Handmade wire hangers hung suspended from several strings attached to the low beams, displaying multicolored hues shaped into tunics and pants. Several long sashes of assorted colors swayed from the scarce wind. A burgundy scarf among the others caught my eye and I stared at it, realizing it was similar to the one Dastan wore a few days ago. The thought of him made my heart leap and skip in tumbled circles. His handsome face, piercing gaze, and irresistible presence made liquid fire boil within me. A longing took hold of my chest and squeezed causing a craving hunger that ignited the sweet inferno bubbling in my heart.

"I do not pay you to daydream, girl!" a high pitched voice sliced through my thoughts. I blinked and snapped my eyes to focus on the old woman that sat next to me. Grandma Saidi wrinkled her nose at me and pointed to the azure bolt of cloth and shears in my hands. Her shriveled hand jabbed menacingly in a warning gesture.

"I'm sorry," I quickly mumbled and resumed cutting strips of blue fabric. The sectioned ribbons fell to the padded mat that lined the dirty floor in heaps of snakelike streamers.

"You should be grateful I offered you work. If I was not as kindhearted, I would have gave it to those new workers who just arrived in the city," Grandma Saidi scoffed in a stern voice. She sighed and fanned herself with her withered hand. "What is the world coming to? Nasaf is a successful city, but with everybody flocking in to claim their prize, there won't be any left for the rest of us!"

She continued rambling about stolen jobs and took a bit of time elaborating on how it was high time she received good fortune for her honest entrepreneur skills. I listened without comment, biting my tongue so I did not enrage her with what I really thought of her charlatan ways. My fingers continued to work, but the droning of Grandma Saidi's voice lulled me into a daze. My thoughts drifted to Dastan and I realized that I saw his face more and more in my mind with each passing day. I had not seen him since our little escapade on top the palace and although I longed to be with him again, I had no way of even possibly finding him. The thought of searching for him greatly amused me and I almost laughed out loud. Of course, I would discover him in the palace but I could not simply march to the gold tinted gates and inquire after him. I wouldn't get fifty paces within the courtyard, before guards hurried out to demand what is that I wanted.

_Please, may I speak with Prince Dastan?_

The soldiers would kick me out thinking I was a beggar there to plead for pittance. It was a ridiculous idea and I shook my head in contemplation. Therefore, I was stuck here in the company of lovely Grandma Saidi and her annoying voice. Sighing, I pulled the cloth higher up on my knees and continued cutting.

"Oh, may I help you?" Grandma Saidi said in a sweet tone as she talked to a customer. "That would look flattering on you," she proceeded on babbling and complimenting.

"You don't think it's too bright?" a deep familiar voice floated over. My head snapped up and my eyes locked onto Dastan's gorgeous face. He had an expression of feigned doubt on his handsome features. The same burgundy scarf that I had scrutinized at earlier was draped over his fingers.

"Oh not at all, dear sir," Grandma Saidi cooed and smiled showing her crooked teeth. "It would look marvelous on you!"

Dastan's forehead scrunched together in thought as he held up the scarf and turned it this way and that. In a mock frown, he shifted his gaze to me and asked innocently.

"You there, perhaps you could give me an opinion?"

"Oh, what would she know? She's just a serving girl," Grandma Saidi ridiculed and waved at me, dismissively. The work in my hands was neglected as I regarded Dastan with stunned surprise. He did not take his eyes off of me and within those light-hued spheres, an adoring devotion glimmered behind the veil that masked his face.

"Uh...well," I faltered at a loss of what to say. Grandma Saidi sneered, clearly displeased. "I think...sir...that it looks dashing...on you."

A small smile appeared on Dastan's lips coloring his face with glee. Swinging his eyes to Grandma Saidi, he pulled silver coins from within his azure robes. Depositing them into Grandma Saidi's eager palms, Dastan wrapped the scarlet sash around his neck and began walking away.

"Thank you, kind sir! Thank you!" Grandma Saidi's honey filled voice cried out as she pocketed the money. I furtively stole glances the way that Dastan had departed, but he disappeared as quick as he appeared. After several attempts of searching for him with cautious glimpses without attracting the attention of the once again jabbering old lady next to me, I gave up and lowered my eyes onto the trailing fabric at my feet. Stuck within the folds of the indigo material, slightly protruding adjacent to my heel was a single torn crimson strip of cloth tied with one smooth knot. I snatched it in my fingers and recognized it instantly. It was the same color and fabric of the scarf that Dastan just bought. Anxiousness swiftly rose in my body as I raised my gaze to peer at the surrounding lane. Shops lined the narrow dirt road, packed close together. A flurry of sound consisting of loud conversations, creaking carts being towed and noises from nearby camels, swelled from the street. People in dust covered tunics and long gray robes littered the place, either buying or gawking. I scanned the area carefully and spotted a single band of burgundy cloth tied around the pole of another vendor's stall not too far away. It was fashioned into the same knot. My heart thudded with delight.

"Grandma Saidi, may I go use Farim's wash room?" I asked and tried to look innocent. She waved at me as if swatting a bothersome fly and grunted in answer. Stepping into the crowded road, I weaved past people to where the tied cloth hung limply unnoticed to all around it. I reached it in a matter of seconds and began seeking for another. Next to this particular stall was a narrow set of washed stone stairs that led to the upper tier of the merchant district. As I scanned up the cracked stone slabs, I saw an abandoned cart; its' wheels gone, its' lack of use prominent in the side where a huge fracture rendered its' surface. There, fastened to the end of the handlebars, was a faint flash of red. Quickly climbing the steps, I reached the cart and pulled free the piece of knotted scarf. I followed these small signs for a bit more until I came to an extremely narrow gap in between two buildings. Entering this crevice, I glimpsed another cinched fabric attached to a low bush in the farthest corner. Hunting for another, I realized that there was nowhere to look. The bush was surrounded on all sides by the buildings. The windows of the dwellings were high and on the left structure was a balcony laden with plants and protruding vines. I turned around, biting my lip and stared off into the entrance. I feverishly wondered where to go from here and I was getting increasingly worried that Grandma Saidi would start to question why it's taking me so long.

A soft thudding erupted behind me and I twirled around to come face to face with Dastan. He grinned at the sight of me and stepped closer. Clutched in his left hand was what remained of the scarf he had just purchased. I raised my eyes to the balcony above and realized that's where he was hiding.

"Hello," he uttered, that wonderful smile still on his lips.

"Dastan..."

"I wanted to see you sooner, but my Uncle Nizam has just arrived home from Alumut. I had to be present to receive him," Dastan explained and brushed the strands of hair that strayed onto his cheeks. "I don't understand why my heart suddenly feels pain when you are not near."

My face reddened and a diminutive smile stole onto my trembling lips. My fingers were absently rubbing the sides of my long pale dress in short nervous strokes.

"I was so determined on leaving the palace grounds that my brothers thought I was crazy," Dastan declared and chuckled to himself. When his laughter ceased, he tilted his gaze my way and pondered out loud.

"Maybe I am crazy..."

"Crazy? I should be the one that is mad. Talking to you, being able to see you...that is such a rarity. Not to mention that you're a prince and all, someone who is only glimpsed by nobles," I replied with enthusiasm. He rubbed his hands as one and grinned with humor.

"Well, then we can be raving lunatics together," Dastan announced. This time, my own laughter mingled with his. The butterflies in my stomach began to dissipate and my tense edgy muscles relaxed. The sound of his laughter suppressed the apprehension that was bottled inside me. We spent the next few minutes conversing about nothing in particular, just enjoying one another's company. He inquired if I needed anything at my home; food, clothing, and such, but when I revealed that the only clothing I had as of now was what he saw before him, he offered to purchase me some. I adamantly declined and the subject was dropped when he noticed that it bothered me. Dastan, then began talking about his family.

"My father is currently visiting the high temple in Angvar," he said, fondly. "He is a man of prayers, seeking answers that he thinks the gods are whispering to him." The love in Dastan's deep eyes for the King made me feel somewhat happy. I could see that he cherishes his father dearly.

Grandma Saidi's wrinkled face suddenly appeared in my mind. I gasped in disbelief, forgetting that I had supposedly told her I was in the wash room. Panic constricted my chest and I took a step back.

"I must go. The old lady you acquired that scarf from is not very nice," I said, hurriedly. Dastan seized my hand and squeezed his fingers tightly around mine. His touch was heavenly; warm and affectionate.

"Just a moment," he murmured, looking into my eyes with a sweltering need. Dastan drew closer, so close that the front of his navy robes brushed my quivering chest. It took all the strength in me not to collapse. I abruptly pulled back and released his hand, although all I wanted was to keep them entwined with mine.

"I must go," I whispered and watched as Dastan's face filled with an unfulfilled joy. I absolutely wanted to press my lips to his, to feel their softness against mine but I did not want to suffer a beating.

"I will come see you tomorrow," Dastan promised and smiled longingly. I reluctantly turned around and hurried away. Elation filled my heart to the brim, spilling over in waves of ecstasy. The emotions Dastan roused in me were overwhelming, but beautifully satisfying. As I retraced my route back to Grandma Saidi, I regretted not savoring those delicious lips of his.

**©yourlipbalm 2010. All rights reserved. Distribution of any kind is prohibited without the written consent of yourlipbalm.**


	6. I Promise

**Destiny**

_A Prince of Persia Fanfiction_

_**006 I Promise**_

Night drew its' shadowy cloak over the low buildings around me as I hurriedly unraveled the long patched sheets from the sturdy rope that hung suspended between the two houses. I folded the sheets neatly and placed them on the woven basket at my feet. I worked quickly, worried that Lady Beza may come home and discover that her laundry still hung in the dark. As part of a small job, she had hired me to dry out her soiled clothing and blankets every three days. Unfortunately, Grandma Saidi had kept me shearing fabric a little longer today as punishment for my long absence yesterday.

I worked my way down the rope, grabbing and folding clothes and wishing that daylight had not faded so fast. Dragging the basket along with me, I came to stand in front of a large bed sheet. It was so long that even when hung in half on the cord, the length reached down to the ground. I could not see beyond it for the line was a few inches above my head and I sighed contemplating how I was to fold this without getting it dirty. Reaching for the thin gray linen, I pulled the frayed edge to the right so that I could pull it down into one bundle. The blanket slid against the twine with a soft rustling sound. I yanked it halfway and gasped in shock, almost dropping the sheet to the dirty ground. Dastan's gorgeous face appeared on the other side of the fabric. His abrupt appearance was so unexpected that words of greeting drowned in my throat.

"I didn't mean to startle you," Dastan apologized and curled his lips into a dazzling smile. "I hope I did not frighten you."

"Materializing in thin air where you were not before may be considered quite terrifying to some people," I finally uttered, regaining my senses along with my voice. He chuckled and gazed at me with warmth. I pulled free the sheet and with difficulty tried to fold it into sections. Without hesitating, Dastan clutched one end to help me. As we overlapped the blanket onto itself, he glanced at me. The affection in his eyes were replaced with an evident despair prominent in his voice when next he spoke.

"I must leave the city tomorrow."

His words bit into me and the sting burned my heart almost instantly. He handed the large cloth to me and I placed it on top of the now full basket.

"It seems my uncle, Nizam coming back from Alumut has uncovered a secret that could tear our empire apart. He has uncovered smuggled weapons that Alumut has supplied to our enemies," Dastan explained as I took a step toward him to better see his handsome features. "My brother Tus is ruling in my father's absence and he has declared war on Alumut."

This bit of news was shocking, because everyone thought Alumut was a holy city, considered sacred to some if not all. Although I was only a lowly commoner, I knew what the risks of war were and the horrific consequences it had painted throughout history. I frowned in displeasure and watched as Dastan shifted his eyes to stare at the luminescent moon. His expression was a mix of doubt, longing, and duty.

"The army leaves for Alumut at dawn and I go with them."

_Dawn_. That was just a few hours from now. Misery bloomed in my chest slowly spreading through my body. It made my limbs grow cold as if the life was flowing out.

"How long will you be gone?" I asked uneasily, sudden yearning squeezing my heart.

"My uncle, my two brothers and I will ride out to seize Alumut. It will take us three days to get there," Dastan murmured in a faraway voice. "Securing the city will take us two days...hence eight days."

The thought of him leaving saddened me, if only for eight days; the hunger in my heart that called for him could not stand the distance. I lowered my eyes in gloom, staring at his intricate leather belt with silent vagueness. In the short time that we have been together, a mounting attachment had bound me to him.

I watched his right hand lift to touch my chin. He tilted my head up with his fingers and stole the breath from my lungs with his alluring gaze. He closed the gap within us with a swift move that brought our bodies against each other in a matter of seconds.

"I will return soon," Dastan said, his hot breath caressing my forehead.

"Promise me, you will come back," I heard myself say, the desire in my voice unveiled. A small smile curled the corners of his mouth and then he began bending slowly toward my face.

"I promise, Lillei."

Dastan's moist lips touched mine and we melted into each other. The sensations that his mouth aroused in me were exquisitely heavenly. The wetness of his tongue rolled over mine in waves of sultry heat that intensified as our kiss became deeper and longer. His fingers that were on my chin traveled behind my neck as he pulled me in, consuming me with fervor. I felt his other hand snake around my waist gathering me into his fiery embrace. I returned his salacious kiss with equal lasciviousness. Soon, my own fingers were in his hair, my own hunger displayed with the need in my lips, my own heart calling out to him wishing this will not be the last, but only the beginning.

"I will keep you safe in here," I whispered and pointed to my chest. Dastan grinned, passion glowing in his eyes. He held me for the longest time as we stood outside my tiny home. Returning from Lady Beza's house turned out to be the shortest walk I have ever taken. I did not want this moment to end, I wanted it to last forever.

"Good night my sweet little thief," Dastan whispered in my ear and pulled away. I wanted the security of his arms around me once more and the wetness of his lips on mine once again. Reluctantly taking a step back, I found myself suddenly tossed into a maelstrom of desire. Dastan drank me in with amorous eyes also discouraged at leaving, but I knew that he must.

"Good night," I replied and watched sadly as he disappeared into the dark. The night swallowed him up leaving nothing but the lingering taste of his lips on my mouth and the burning stain of his touch. I stood in the Cimmerian dark for a few minutes, savoring this encounter in my chest with pleasure.

Finally, turning around I walked up to my small wooden door and entered into the shady one room house. As soon as the door closed behind me, the happiness that bloomed in my heart departed with an abrupt painful strike to my head. I collapsed onto the dirt floor, dizziness overcoming my senses. I heard a faint scuffling near me and then rough hands seizing my arms. A crude, brusque voice echoed faraway.

"Bag her up! She's the last one!"

I groaned in pain and then the hands of darkness took me. I floated in nothingness for a time, lost in a world of gray shapes and dull sounds that I couldn't quite see or hear. When the void subsided, I began to dream. I dreamt of falling endlessly, plummeting into a constant state of suspension. In my dwindling condition, I glimpsed the silhouettes of shades mingling together into discernible forms. Within that gray mass emerging like a beacon to light my way was Dastan's face, smiling. I cried out his name, but his image dissolved and melted back into the gray. Sounds came to my ears; people conversing in undertones, a faint creaking, and a disembodied voice calling out to me. The mixture of vision and noise coalesced together to make my head throb in agony.

The ache persisted and slowly lifting up as if from a drug induced haze, my eyes fluttered open. A round face stared down at me with relief. Black eyes filled with worry gazed at me with astonishment as I shifted on the hard floor. My vision focused and I looked up at a young girl about my age. She had short shoulder length hair, straight and black framing a small slender body. Her petite face was pretty, but smeared with grime. She smiled at me kindly and helped me to sit. I took in my surroundings with dread. I was sitting in a large wooden cart, with no windows and one single door. Littered on the floor were rags and blankets soiled with dirt and excrement. Lying on those filthy cloths were several men and women. They all looked hungry and the expression in their eyes were of terror. Dirt and earth caked their hands and bare feet. Dust clung to their tangled hair in patches of brown.

"Where am I?" I said to no one in particular. Everyone ignored me, except for the pretty girl who sat to my right. She leaned over and patted my knee, reassuringly.

"You're in the middle of the desert with the rest of us," she said and grinned. "My name is Eina, what is yours?"

I said my name and then winced as my head pounded with anguish. Lifting my hands to search the wound on my head, I felt something damp and sticky on the side of my face. Crimson stained my fingers as I wiped at the dried blood on my face.

"You suffered a bad head injury," Eina explained. "I stopped the bleeding the best that I can."

"Thank you," I murmured and was truthfully grateful.

"How long have we been in here?" I asked and felt sick at the rocking motion of the cart.

"Almost two days now," she answered and my heart sank. _Two days?_ I pondered, distracted. I had been unconscious for that long, alone in my dreams, but captured like the ones that are here with me. My thoughts drifted to Dastan and fear clutched at my chest. The heart wrenching realization that I would never see him again almost made me keel over. I would not be there when he returned, the thought saddened me. As if reading my mind Eina asked in a low tone so no one can hear us.

"Who is Dastan? You called out for him several times in your sleep."

"He is someone special to me," I answered and she smiled knowingly. Reaching over, Eina patted my knee once again and reassured me in a gentle way.

"Do not worry, Lillei. The Creator sees all things, you will meet this Dastan again."

I gawked at her with disbelief. She said this so calmly and with such convincing vigor that I almost believed her. Then reality hit me and I shook my head.

"No. I won't see him again. I don't even know where we are going, how will I ever find my way back to Nasaf?"

"Of course, we don't know where we are going, but we'll find out when we get there. I'm sure those cutthroats won't leave us in here forever. If they wanted us dead, they would have killed us already, but they have not. They must have a purpose for us," Eina replied. She had a point and I had to agree to the truth of her words.

"Who are they? Why have they captured us?" my voice came out hoarse and I realized that my throat was parched and dry. Eina shrugged and absently started playing with strands of her dark hair.

"They are the newcomers that arrived a few days ago in Nasaf," a woman sitting to my left revealed. Apparently, she had heard our conversation which was not surprising since the moving cart was small in size. She rubbed her palms together and then scratched her neck. The heavy grime on her skin made her several shades darker. "My daughter heard from the merchants that they arrived to find work."

"Instead, their real reason was kidnapping," Eina concluded, disgust in her voice.

"Kidnapping us for what?" I questioned, trying to think of possible solutions. A middle aged man, with furtive eyes glanced our way and said in a voice, barely above a whisper.

"Slaves. They're taking us to Loure to the slave market, where we'll be sold to the highest bidder!"

I cringed at the thought of being displayed for all to see like a piece of meat at market. The thought brought revulsion to my insides, making me grimace.

"I do not want to be someone else's property," I retorted, shaking my head in panic. The man glared at me with sorrow filled eyes.

"Such is as it is," he replied and looked away. He did not speak another word for the rest of the journey. I lowered my eyes to my hands and then to the thin pale dress that covered my body. It was torn and covered with dirt, but I didn't look as bad as the others. Eina nudged me and beamed with assurance. Her positive reaction to the gloomy circumstances lifted my spirit a notch.

"Let's not talk about that. It's too depressing. Let's talk about our lives before we all were brought together. I will start," she suggested, buoyantly. "I lived in the merchant district on the third tier. I made my living off of the heavy coin purses that belonged to the businesses in the district."

"You are a pickpocket?" I asked, surprised. She nodded and shrugged as if the idea had not crossed her mind. Most of the women and men began speaking about their lives in a rather sad way as if they would never see those lives again. There were beggars and common folk who worked for a small pittance. The woman who had spoken to my left was employed with a pottery trader who only gave her a few coins each week. There were others who were maids and servants to the lower class nobles, scrounging off of scraps to stay alive. As their stories were told, it dawned on me that all these people would not be missed. Each and every one was of no importance; no one would recognize that they had gone missing. No one would start a search party or question their disappearance. They vanished without a trace and nobody would even know or care. This small anomaly brought despair into my heart. I silently asked myself, is this my destiny? To die with the rest of this small band of poor souls, or sold to someone who will tear me apart, or be left in the scorching desert as carrion for the birds? No matter how I thought about it from every angle, I could not find a way out of this predicament. I grew quiet then, the reality of doom hovering over my head, squeezing me in a chokehold. And suddenly I began to think about the death that awaited, the death that would surely come.

**©yourlipbalm 2010. All rights reserved. Distribution of any kind is prohibited without the written consent of yourlipbalm.**


	7. Plenty of Practice

**A/N: Thank you for those who have commented! Your feedback is very encouraging and it definitely fuels my writing. I think I have been slacking off too much lately so I must go watch the movie again for inspiration. Oh, I wanted to mention this earlier, but I guess I can mention it now. I know the title "Destiny" mirrors alot of other fanfics, but seeing as how destiny are the hands that brings everyone together in the movie, I decided it was appropriate to have that in my fic. Thank you again for those who have reviewed! Enjoy.**

**Destiny**

_A Prince of Persia Fanfiction_

_**007 Plenty of Practice**_

Late into the evening on the next day, as I dozed in a slumber filled with indistinct forms, my shoulders were shaken awake by a gentle hand. I arose to peer at Eina's circular face with half lidded eyes.

"It sounds like we have entered a city," she whispered and gestured up to the wooded ceiling. I listened carefully to the creaking of the cart and sure enough, sounds of raising gates and booted feet rung muffled outside. Hushed voices conversed with each other as the sounds from clopping hooves drew near. The moving cart did not stop however and continued for some time until there was only silence once again. I stared at Eina with confusion, wondering what had just happened and where we were when suddenly without warning, movement stopped and the one door to the cart swung open and torchlight blazed into view.

"Everybody out!" a stern voice called. I shielded my eyes from the sudden light and scrambled to my feet. Several armed men gruffly snatched us by the arms and pulled us out. I stumbled onto a dirt path, barely visible with the scarce light. We were shoved along this trail and as I raised my eyes to peer around, I realized that we were underground. The path was carved through a winding maze in the earth. Single beacons of light from flaming torches lined the walls, their shadows dancing tauntingly across the packed dirt that rose as walls.

"Get a move on!" the armed men yelled and pressed us onward. After several minutes of them poking and prodding us along, we arrived in a large room, the length of it taken up by a huge barred cell. We were ushered in and then the iron door locked us in like caged animals. Several of the armored men stood outside and it seemed like they were waiting for something.

I stood next to Eina, frightened of what was to come. She gave me a meek smile and turned her attention to her surroundings. We did not have to wait long, because soon a tall figure in a black cloak emerged from a sealed door that I had not noticed before. It was a woman, adorned in robes of onyx and gold that glittered in the torchlight. As she drew closer, her shrouded face came into view and I watched her with a mix of fear and interest. Her features were delicate; small angled eyes, golden skin, thin lips, and long curly hair. She would have been beautiful if not for the dark expression on her face. It made her eyes steely, her mouth a straight angry line, and her posture haughty. Her cold voice cut through the air in a ringing tone that made all who was near her tremble with terror.

"This is what you brought me?" she inquired, disapprovingly. One of the armed men stepped forth and answered her with a shaky voice.

"They are able to do the work that you require, High Priestess. They are few, but they are strong."

"Strong?" the High Priestess questioned, irritably. She flicked her icy gaze to the man addressing her and he squirmed underneath her overpowering glare. "If you consider starved skeletons strong than obviously they are not worth the full price that we agreed upon. I wanted them to be able to work the tunnels, which would require them to be fit and sturdy, but you have brought me famished dogs! Look at them! They are filthy!" She gestured toward us with ringed fingers, disgust evident in her voice. The man cringed and apologized, feverishly.

"I can bring you more, just allow me more time," he offered. The High Priestess narrowed her eyes at him and then glanced our way, indecision mirrored in those shadowed orbs.

"No, no more. The Princess may begin to wonder what my plans are. Time is all that I have," she said and took a step closer toward us. She scanned us one by one slowly and with studied care. When her eyes scrutinized my face and then Eina's and back to mine, a small smile curved the corners of her lips.

"Take them to the chambers. Leave those two with me," the High Priestess commanded and pointed to Eina and me. The armed men unlocked the cell door and shuffled everyone out. The men and women who had accompanied me in the cart were dragged off back onto the path that we had arrived from. Eina and I watched them go with remorse, knowing that we would never see them again.

"As for these two, they will make a fine gift to the Princess." The High Priestess whirled around, her shimmering clothes a blur as she exited through the hidden door. I shifted my glance to Eina and she shook her head in confusion. We were escorted through the concealed door with a different group of soldiers. These ones had fine crafted armor on, gold inlaid with designs of a temple. Pointed helms shielded their faces and long scimitars clanked by their sides. We followed the High Priestess through the maze of tunnels that gradually originated from hard soil into concrete blocks. After several minutes of tedious walking, the dirt floor suddenly disappeared replaced with a set of worn stone stairs. We ascended to a solid wall with no door. I squinted in the dim light and saw the High Priestess touch a portion of the barrier with her slender fingers. A sharp shifting of stone echoed as the wall slid open. I was shoved through into a room that was nothing compared to what I have ever seen. Walls of alabaster decorated with tapestries depicting ancient scenes hung immobile all around. Hanging drapes the color of cream suspended from the high vaulted ceiling. I stared at the splendor and luxury that poured forth in the form of lavish tables and exquisitely designed vases. I did not get to enjoy these things as the soldiers pushed Eina and me out an enormous door and then through an endless shadowed hallway.

We finally arrived at a bath chamber where Eina and I were allowed to bathe. I was so glad to be rid of the grime and stink that I did not even mind as the High Priestess glowered over us with watchful eyes. We were given simple gray dress robes to wear, but I was grateful for these were better than the rags that we wore earlier. Afterward, soldiers took us to a small room with two rolled mats on the floor. Before locking the door, the High Priestess warned us in a cold voice.

"You will be presented to the Princess tomorrow. If you try to escape the palace, you will be dragged down into the tunnels where you will join your little friends."

She pulled the door shut and an audible click echoed through the room. I looked at Eina and sighed heavily. We were brought out of a cage only to be thrust into another. Eina lowered herself onto the mats with relief.

"At least we have a clean place to sleep," Eina said and touched the cotton pillow. "And clean clothes to wear."

"What do you imagine they are going to do with us?" I asked and sat down next to her. She glanced at me and smiled.

"Hopefully, it's not anything bad, but that is just wishful thinking."

"I cannot believe that I am here, in this situation," I said softly and gathered my legs in my arms so that my chin rested on my knees. Misery washed over me like a shroud that I could not uncover. The circumstances of my life flashed in my mind with blinding speed, revealing to me just how unfortunate I really am.

"You cannot hold yourself responsible for any of this," Eina replied. "There are just some things that are out of your control." She tilted her head and peered at me with contented eyes.

"How can you stay in such good spirits at a time like this?" I inquired, not believing for one moment that she could be so happy in the face of certain death. Eina chuckled and beamed with an even brighter grin.

"Plenty of practice," she simply answered and then paused as if in deep thought. "My mother was taken from me in the middle of the night by the guards of a rich noble. My father was taken from me by the greedy hands of death. A carefree childhood that I craved was stolen from me as I taught myself to stay alive. Everything was taken from me, even that which is most important to a woman."

Eina looked at me with eyes of fire as I understood what she meant. Her innocence, her purity had also been seized. I frowned in horror. Eina spoke, this time with much more vigor in her tone.

"I have realized that giving to others is golden, but I have also learned a long time ago stealing to give to others is just as well. The money and items that I pickpocket I only keep a small share, the rest I give to the orphaned or elderly who cannot support themselves."

I stared at Eina in wonder, now just discerning what her true self is.

"You managed to turn something terrible into something admirable."

"I see it as looking to the bright side and making the most of it," she merely pointed out. I could not help, but smile in return. She stretched onto her mat and closed her eyes. "We best get some sleep in case we die tomorrow, I'll be happy to know that at least I got to spend the last few hours of my life in a palace."

I laughed and felt my heart lift a little higher. Lying down on the pad, I regarded our conversation with pleasure. A heartwarming emotion surfaced as I suddenly thought of my sister. Her small face swam in the ocean of my mind. How much I missed her. If she had not gotten ill, these would be the kinds of conversations we would have together. I fought back the tide of anguish that threatened to spill over and focused my thoughts on something far less depressing. Swiftly as if waiting on the threshold of my mind, Dastan's handsome face emerged from the deep corners of my thoughts. His captivating eyes stared back at me with longing and the departing kiss that we shared flitted in and out of my head. As I dozed off into the landscape of my dreams, my name on his lips was the last thing that I heard.

**©yourlipbalm 2010. All rights reserved. Distribution of any kind is prohibited without the written consent of yourlipbalm.**


	8. Persians

**Destiny**

_A Prince of Persia Fanfiction_

_**008 Persians**_

I came awake to the sound of the door opening. Heavy footfalls pounded on the floor as booted feet kicked at my side. Groaning, I rolled over and got to my knees. Eina sleepily rose by my side.

"Get up!" a familiar bitter voice demanded. "Her Highness is waiting!" I came to my feet and let the guards usher me out of the room to where the High Priestess stood waiting. She was lavishly adorned in clothes of pure navy silk. The cloak from last night was gone revealing curly dark hair that flowed down her back.

"Your duty is to watch and observe the Princess very carefully. If she so much as mentions anything about a dagger or anything regarding to sand, you are to report to me immediately!" the High Priestess instructed. I gawked at her with a look of complete confusion.

"You want us to spy on her?" Eina asked, incredulity in her voice. The High Priestess glared at us with contempt.

"Silence!" she seethed. "Believe me when I say, I do not trust you, but I do not trust anybody else in this palace either. As a newcomer, you know nothing and that is exactly why you will serve my purpose. If you wish to stay alive, do what you are told and nothing else. Do you understand?"

Eina and I nodded having no idea as to what the High Priestess was talking about. Bewilderment accosted my mind in a flurry of questions. _Dagger? Sand? _What is happening here?

"Remember what I have said," the High Priestess reiterated and then started walking. We were nudged after her, trying to keep up pace. As we continued on, the palace and its' beauty were evident at every turn. Great halls of beige laden with golden furniture that gleamed and lavish trailing curtains that ebbed and flowed as the breeze danced by. Finely detailed mosaics of pastel colors shone brightly all around. Golden screens partitioned sections of the rooms to create endless mazes. It was breathtakingly beautiful.

We finally arrived at a set of pearl white double doors. Soldiers opened the heavy entry and I stepped into a room so grand that I took a breath in astonishment. Open windows winked as long pale drapes shimmered in the sun as light streamed in. The floor was polished marble with thick rugs of a design resembling flowers. Incense filled the air with the scent of jasmine and blooms of pink and lavender stood in ornamental pottery containers. Cushions with an array of pillows and comforters were scattered throughout the room and in certain areas, low polished tables accompanied them. In one such corner, where a group of large faded rosy pillows were littered sat a small girl, no older than the age of ten. She sat with a rigid posture, gazing off toward the open windows as if seeing something there. The expression on her face was a mixture of failure and loss. A beaded head dress of gold adorned the top of her head. Her long dark wavy hair flowed down the small of her back to meet the padded mats. Her clothes were of pure white, with gold trim and a single silver chain hung from her slender neck. She did not turn as we approached, instead she continued staring off into the distance as if in deep thought.

"Your Highness, I have brought you new maids," the High Priestess announced and Eina and my jaws dropped open in surprise. This little girl was the princess? I bowed without realizing it, too distracted to notice that the Princess still did not acknowledge our presence. The High Priestess smiled and ushered us closer. I took a step forward and peered at the sitting girl. She seemed to be occupied with her own thoughts, but when next she spoke, her voice startled me.

"I do not need maids, Taya. I tire of your incessant badgering about the need for servants."

The Princess finally tilted her gaze our way and within those wide eyes, I saw an innocence and intelligence of a girl far older than her young years. She suddenly reminded me of my sister and my heart filled with abrupt pain.

"I have plenty of servants at my beck and call," the Princess said in an irritated voice. She took one quick glance at Eina and me and then resumed her stoic glare. Taya, the High Priestess, narrowed her eyes in revulsion and then said with satisfaction.

"I have dismissed them."

The Princess did not answer, but a controlled anger seethed beneath the surface of her mask. She waved at Taya to dispatch her and then as the High Priestess left without a word, but with a contented look, the Princess slowly returned her glare to us. She studied us with care and then said in a soft voice.

"It seems I have lost control of everything, including my own servants. How is it that a Princess cannot issue orders, and yet her priestess can?"

I did not know how to answer her, but it did not sound like she wanted a response in return. The Princess sighed, clearly frustrated. She rose to her feet and came toward us with one small step.

"What are your names?"

I said mine and then Eina responded with hers. We waited in patient silence as the Princess delved into her own thoughts. After a moment, she replied in a nonchalant manner as if she had lost something and no longer pursued to discover it.

"I am Princess Aara."

"Pleased to meet you, your Highness," I whispered without hesitating. The loss that I felt made my stare linger on her small face. She noticed my ogling and carefully scrutinized me with prying eyes.

"You look at me as if you know me," she said, caution abundant in her childlike features. I tore my gaze away and tried to push down the tide of emotion that raged within me.

"No, Princess..." I stammered, feeling foolish. "You resemble someone who I have lost...long ago."

"And who might that be?" she demanded, curious now. I blinked back the wetness that obscured my vision and answered in a faraway voice.

"My sister. She was taken away by the fever."

Princess Aara contemplated what I revealed and regarded with wonder. The child in her was evident as she replied in a fascinated murmur.

"I have never had a sister. What is it like? Is it like having servants?"

I saw a change in the way she spoke, a longing for something that was out of her reach. Her demeanor transformed from mature ladylike to a child, brimming with curiosity.

"No, your Majesty. It is like having a friend," I related and watched as she tried to understand the meaning of the word. I determined that growing up in a palace must have had its' limits on her. She must have been not allowed to step foot outside these walls or procure any sort of relationship with children of her own age. Her loneliness was a heartbreaking song that cried out in her onyx eyes.

"Friend..." Princess Aara whispered more to herself than to us. After moments of consideration; the gullible expression in her delicate features disappeared, replaced with the regal manner of her title. Gone was the youthfulness, in place of that was years of practiced propriety. Princess Aara looked away from Eina and I and distractedly gestured to a pile of clothes on the marble floor not too far away.

"Make yourself useful and fold those," she commanded and whirled around to gaze out the windows once more. As Eina and I quickly began gathering the robes into stacks, I glanced back at the Princess and wondered to myself how she must feel to be torn between her world and the world outside her doorstep.

The afternoon slowly approached as I carefully wiped the beautiful vase in my hands with a faded towel. Eina and I have been hard at work cleaning the Princess's chambers. We have folded the linen, arranged her flowers, dusted the gleaming furniture and now are washing the ornaments that littered the vast room. The Princess herself has done nothing but stood next to the windows most of the day, lost in her own thoughts. Her lack of enthusiasm made me feel concern for her, although I did not know why. She was clearly distressed and I felt that I should offer her some comfort at least, but what could I say to appease her suffering? I felt like an idiot, but upon further thought, although she ruled a city, she was still a child and in need of some much needed solace. I drew closer to Princess Aara and without knowing what else to say, I said the first thing that came to my mind.

"Princess, what do you see out there?" She turned to face me and I gestured to the windows. Princess Aara followed to where I pointed and paused.

"Freedom from the restrictions of tradition," she answered in a barely audible voice. After a short silence, Princess Aara returned her dark eyes to me. "Freedom of choice."

"But you are a Princess, you can choose your freedom," I inquired and watched sadness surface in her features. She shook her head, her long loose hair bending to and fro.

"I cannot change my destiny," she answered as a small smile appeared on her thin lips. "It has been passed down to me from my ancestors, I cannot escape the promise that has bound me to my blood."

"What promise?" I asked, gently.

"The promise of responsibility...the promise of keeping my people safe. The promise of carrying out my duties..."

Princess Aara looked at me with a hopeless expression. The fear of not performing her royal obligations swam in the depths of her eyes as she looked at me with gloom. How can such a young person govern a whole city? I felt her pain and I smiled warmly.

"Even the smallest person can change the course of the future. Only time will tell," I consoled. Princess Aara stared at me with a mix of awe and understanding. She was still gazing at me with surprise when a loud clamoring erupted from the double doors. I took a few steps back as Taya, the High Priestess quickly barged in. She came directly to the Princess, ignoring me and Eina who was on her hands and knees scrubbing the legs of an end table.

"Your Highness, the archers has spotted a large army descending upon the city," Taya informed, clearly flustered. "Their banners bear the insignia of the Persians."

I listened to this news with a subtle fluttering in my stomach. The unknown feeling slowly made its' way north.

"Persians?" Princess Aara questioned, terror clouding her small face.

"They cannot breach the city. No army in history has ever invaded Alumut's walls," the High Priestess, said in a smug voice.

_Alumut? _The name rung in my ears like a foghorn, making my heart skip a beat and bringing shock to my face. The city that I am currently a hostage of is Alumut? The holy city that has been supplying the enemies of Persia forged weapons? The images of the tunnels underneath flashed across my mind and then illustrations of hundreds of soldiers marching toward the city walls blazed across my vision. That would mean that...

_Dastan is here._

My heart soared at the thought of him. I glanced to Eina with awe. She returned my stare with a look of obvious fright, mistaking the look of surprise on my face. I had not told her everything, because I thought my fate was doomed.

"Mobilize the troops and seal the gates!" Princess Aara commanded, her strong voice a sharp contrast to her youth. Taya slowly bowed and began backing away, something dark veiled in her eyes.

"The Persian army will arrive at nightfall, what will you do in the meantime?"

"I need to pray," Princess Aara whispered, and gradually turned towards the windows again. Taya's sharp eyes peered at Eina and I and she said in a cold voice.

"You two! Come with me!"

Eina and I followed her until we were out of earshot. Cornering us, she demanded in a controlled rage.

"Has she said anything pertaining to what we have discussed?"

Both Eina and I shook our heads. The High Priestess narrowed her eyes suspiciously and then shoved us back.

"Carry on!"

We stumbled back into our previous roles, not knowing what was going to happen. As I resumed the cleaning, I knew one thing for sure. I had to figure out a way to find Dastan and I need to do it soon.

**©yourlipbalm 2010. All rights reserved. Distribution of any kind is prohibited without the written consent of yourlipbalm.**


	9. For A Reason

**Destiny**

_A Prince of Persia Fanfiction_

_**009 For A Reason**_

I kneeled on the cold marble floor sorting through violet saffron flowers. The pungent blooms wafted through the room leaving a dry, earthy scent. I began arranging the flowers with blades of long grass into a porcelain vase. As my fingers worked, my gaze shifted to Princess Aara who sat not too far away in a bask of candlelight. She was absently rubbing the silver chain around her small neck with fervent strokes. The look of agitation on her face was evident and concern washed through me.

Loud explosions suddenly rendered through the silence and all of us jumped including Eina who was standing by the great double doors dusting a statue depicting a rearing golden horse. Although the thundering blasts had started during twilight and continued endlessly into the night, the rumbling eruptions still startled the three of us. The siege of the city walls had greatly saddened the Princess and she had not said a word, only stared off into the distance where faint flames winked from the southern gate. We were all stunned once again by the abrupt opening of the heavy entry. Taya stalked in alone, her shimmering robes of cobalt glittering in the dim light. In her hand was the hilt of a slender sword, its' steel blade gleaming against the faint radiance. My hands froze as I watched Princess Aara slowly turn to peer at the High Priestess with disapproval.

"Taya, you know weapons are forbidden in my personal chambers and you brought it still?" the Princess scolded, eyeing the sword at the High Priestess's side.

"I tire of your games, Princess," Taya mouthed in an icy voice. "I tire of the way you diligently dodge my inquiries and stop my steadfast achievements."

Princess Aara rose to her feet and although her stature was small compared to the High Priestess, the glare that emanated from her intense eyes were overpowering.

"You have deliberately denied me the power that will change this world!" Taya's tone of voice rose to a shrill cackling. "I cannot stand by and watch you do nothing!"

I was still kneeling on the floor, rooted to the spot, looking from one to the other trying desperately to understand their conversation.

"The power that you employ will not change this world, it will corrupt it leaving nothing but disaster," Princess Aara replied in a commanding tone, unbecoming of a ten year old. "Do you think that I do not know of your foul plans? Because I am a child does not restrict me from weeding out your spies! I am a Princess, and you are nothing but a lowly servant!"

Taya cringed at the rebuke, unsure if what she was doing was wise. Greed outweighed loyalty and the doubt in her expression dissolved instantly. With her free hand, the High Priestess pulled forth a bundle of tasseled silk. Wrapped within the crimson cloth glimmered an ancient golden dagger, faint unnatural honeyed light glowed from its' blade. This time it was the Princess who flinched with horror. She blanched as the color drained from her pretty face.

"Where are the Sands of Time, Princess? Give it to me!"

"You will never find it!"

The High Priestess narrowed her angry eyes and suddenly lunged forward. The sword in her hand was thrust forward and in the soft candlelight in the silence of the enormous room, a small cry of pain pierced the still air. Reflex came to life in my limbs as I stood up and bounded over. The sickening sound of steel and flesh reverberated through my ears as Taya yanked her sword from the abdomen of the Princess. Tucking the dagger inside her clothes, the High Priestess finally noticed me running over and pointed the crimson stained sword at my chest.

"If you are wise, you will keep your distance!"

I froze and shifted my petrified gaze from the tip of her blade to the fallen Princess. Grief accumulated in my heart as I watched dark red blood ooze from her wound.

"She is only a child!" I whispered and shook with tremors of sorrow. The High Priestess sneered and whirled around. Stalking toward the door, she paid no attention to me. I followed her with my terror stricken eyes and gasped as Eina who had been observing the whole scene in silence suddenly leap onto Taya. The small girl grabbed at the High Priestess's robes and began pummeling her with quick punches. Taya screamed in rage and threw the girl off of her with a strength I did not know she could have possessed. Eina crashed onto the floor knocking over several large jars of incense. The High Priestess then lifted her sword high into the air and jerked it down into Eina's soft chest. The audible grinding of steel against bone echoed throughout the room. My scream died in my throat as Taya pulled free her blade and disappeared from the chamber. With a heavy heart, I ran toward the prone figure on the cold floor. Eina was lying in an awkward position with her right hand pinned behind her back. I lifted her head and smoothed away the loose strands of hair that clung to her forehead.

"Eina..."

Her faraway eyes tried to focus on my face as she winced from the agony that consumed her body. I touched her face and felt the cold already taking hold.

"At least I got to sleep in a palace before I died," she whispered, a small smile forming on her pale lips. I fought back the anguish that pierced my chest and grinned with her. Always the optimist.

"Why did you do that?" I asked, desolately. Her grin widened as she tugged her pinned arm free. Clutched in her hand was the mysterious dagger bundled in its' crimson cloth. I took in a sharp breath, eyeing the weapon with wonder. Eina deposited the knife into my own hands and mumbled as if slipping into a much awaited dream.

"Everything happens for a reason..."

Her gentle voice trailed off and then her body went limp. I shook her feverishly, but her glazed eyes never blinked. It was only then that I noticed the hot tears streaming down my cheeks. They rolled off my chin and onto Eina's gray robe. In the short time that we have accompanied each other, I had grown fond of her.

"Lillei..." a small voice called out for me. I looked up from Eina's prone figure to find Princess Aara where she had fallen. She lay on her side, blood dripping from her stomach. A maroon pool had already gathered on the marble floor. With pained effort, she beckoned for me with an ashen hand. I released Eina'a immobile body and quickly sauntered over to help the Princess.

"It seems the Gods still favor us," she breathed as I pulled her into my arms. Her heavy bleeding seeped into my clothes as I held her against my chest. She shuddered and gazed at me with innocent eyes.

"They have sent me you and it is you that must fulfill my promise," Princess Aara whispered, her voice as fragile as glass. She raised her trembling fingers to the silver chain around her neck and pulled it free. The necklace dangled from her tiny hand, a small shimmering hourglass suspended from the end of the band. Within the container harbored grains of sand the color of alabaster. With her other hand, she touched the dagger that rests in my palm.

"You must take the dagger to the ancient guardian sanctuary in the Hindu Kush. Seek out a woman named Tamina in the Valley of the Slaves. She will show you the way to the temple. Only there can the dagger be kept safe," Princess Aara instructed, her voice crackling with torment. I listened to her with awe, taking it all in with stunned silence. The life in her eyes began to fade, trickling away like water through my fingers.

"Give me your word," she pleaded and dropped the chained pendant into my hand. The metal glistened from the sunrise that poured from the fluttering drapes. I swallowed the uneasiness that crept into my body and thought of this little girl, this child so much like my sister, who with her dying breath had given me a task that she could trust to no one.

"You have my word," I answered and watched as relief washed over her face. She drew her hand up and pointed a shaky finger to the wall opposite us.

"There lies a secret passageway that will take you out of the palace and into the streets of the city. You must hurry before Taya returns," Princess Aara urged and then grasped my arm. The look in her pallid face was grateful and oddly at ease. She squeezed my skin and then said softly.

"Thank you...my friend."

I watched as her eyes too, turned glassy and then devoid of life. Carefully laying her down, I fought the wave of emotion that rendered my heart and swiftly ran to the wall that she had pointed to. Slipping the chain around my neck and tucking the dagger into my robe, I took one last look behind me. Dawn had arrived, bringing with it streamers of light that bounced off the polished furniture and gleaming vases. The room had a cold feel to it as I gazed at the two bodies on the floor. Sadness weaved its melancholy song within me as I took a shuddering breath and turned around.

**©yourlipbalm 2010. All rights reserved. Distribution of any kind is prohibited without the written consent of yourlipbalm.**


	10. Tell Me

**Destiny**

_A Prince of Persia Fanfiction_

_**010 Tell Me**_

Loud voices shouted and the neighing of horses could be heard over the din of metal against metal. Puffs of dust rose from the boots of hundreds of soldiers battling in the crowded streets of Alumut. I peered around the corner of a low building next to a fence that was drying some loose linen and scanned the area for a way out. Stone houses lined the street aside sparse greenery. Littered here and there were dead bodies with frozen faces of agony. I swallowed back my fear and hastily grabbed one of the white sashes that were draped over the fence. Covering my head and face so that only my eyes were visible, I took one more last look into the foray and pelted into the street. Armed men paid me no attention as I ran past. I could feel the bulk of the dagger at my side concealed within my robes. My mind began working for a plan out of the city, but like inevitable events, fate had another plan for me.

Approaching a fork in the road, I contemplated which one I should take. One led higher into the city while the other led through an archway that curved under a small walkway. At the end of this passageway was a horseman galloping after a running man. I chose the latter and rushed after the charging horse. As I followed, thinking about which way I should go next, the running man in front of the horseman agilely jumped onto the surrounding wall on the left and then picking up speed, he leaped onto the wall on the right and using the momentum, crashed into the horseman knocking him clear off his horse. They both went tumbling past the arched pathway onto the dusty road. A flash of crimson winked from the running man as he quickly got to his feet. The horseman took a little longer to stand upright, but when he did he drew the pointed spear from the ground and eyed his foe with watchful dark eyes. I stopped at the end of the archway and watched the running man snatch his fallen scimitars and swung them toward the soldier with ease. As I continued to stare at him; the way he moved with lightning quick steps despite the weight of his black and silver armor, the dark disheveled hair that leaped around his broad shoulders, the familiar attractive face that was locked in a cunning gaze, a staggering realization occurred to me.

_It was Dastan._

My heart leaped and joy flowed through me in a familiar warmth. Longing for him suddenly took hold and I felt my insides yearn without end. The horseman who wore the same temple insignia as the palace soldiers, blocked Dastan's strike and then weaved his spear attacking back three times. With a sudden brisk smite with his double blades, Dastan deflected the assault with experienced effortlessness. They glared at each other in a moment of contemplation; calculating their next moves, oblivious to the sprawled bodies around them and the sounds of battle that raged about. The soldier slashed with his spear, pinning the pointed end on one of Dastan's swords and crushed it against the low stone wall that surrounded them. Using the blunt end of his staff, the soldier brought it toward Dastan's face. With a swiftness that amazed me and with blinding speed, Dastan parried the soldier's strike with his other blade and swung around to avoid another jab from the Alumutian. With a few more skillful maneuvers, Dastan sliced the soldier's chest in one nimble strike and kicked him to the dirt. He fell to the ground in a heap of dust. Triumphantly, Dastan turned away ready for another foe and another fight, but the soldier at his feet was not yet ready to give up. He reached for his fallen spear and attempted to rise. With Dastan's back to him, he had the perfect chance for a backstab. In a split second decision, I looked around the clearing and spotted an abandoned blade next to a fallen recruit. Springing toward it, I snatched the hilt of the sword and discerned how awkward it felt in my hands. It was heavy and I felt unbalanced as I swung it with all my strength into the back of the soldier. His scream tore through the air as Dastan glanced back. The look of surprise on his handsome face was mirrored in mine as I stood there still holding the hilt with the blade sunk deep into the flesh of the soldier. Dastan's gaze shifted from the dead man to me and he stared at me with amazement. I tore my eyes from his beautiful features to the sword that I had just wielded. Shock pierced my body in tremors as I released the hilt with shaking hands. The realization that I just killed a man dawned on me and I quivered as if the air was chilly.

"It's alright," Dastan said. He sheathed his swords behind his back and gently held his hands up in assurance. He came closer and squinted at my face. It was only then that I suddenly realized he still did not recognize me with the sash covering my head.

"Dastan..." my voice came out small and scared. Astonishment filled his features as recognition glimmered in his disbelieving eyes. I pulled the scarf from my head and watched his gaze widen with bewilderment.

"Lillei?" he breathed taking my trembling hands in his. "What are you doing here?"

"It's a long story," I muttered quietly. His startled turquoise gaze lowered from my face and then down to the stained clothes I wore.

"You're bleeding!" Dastan exclaimed in horror at the dried blood that soaked the front of my gray robe. I shook my head at the concern in his features.

"It's not mine."

Pulling me into his tight embrace, Dastan kissed the top of my forehead. Stroking my hair delicately he then glanced up to the palace as a loud horn blared. Returning his affectionate eyes to me, he said in a hurried voice.

"That is Tus. He has overtaken the palace. You can tell me your long story there."

Dastan pulled me, but I resisted and held onto his hand, fear prominent in my eyes and voice.

"I cannot go back there! If the High Priestess should see me..."

Confusion clouded his concerned stare as he tried to comprehend what I was saying. I shook my head, images of Eina and the Princess swirling in my mind.

"What are you saying?"

"If she sees me, she'll kill me!"

Dastan seized my face in his palms and said in a fiery tone, full of undisguised passion.

"I won't let anyone hurt you. The city is lost, the Alumutians can do nothing while the Persian King's sons have secured the city."

He reached over and pulled the white sash over my face once more and then took hold of my hand.

"As an extra precaution," Dastan said and pulled me after him. I reluctantly followed wondering why I am entering the palace when I had just escaped.

Dastan stared at me with adoration, a smoldering flame radiated from the depths of his blue eyes. They fascinated me, lulling me into a cocoon of desire. I became oblivious to the splendor of the palace room that I stood in. The extravagance of the plush bed and the multi-colored tapestries didn't sway me from his dazzling glare. The ocher hued window veils that sashayed from the breeze and the scent of ranunculus were forgotten as I drowned in the intense excitement that manifested from his expression.

"Tell me what happened," Dastan inquired, his voice a gentle murmur. Trying not to faint, I took a shuddering breath and recited everything that had transpired starting from when I was knocked out to my hasty flight from the Alumutian palace. He listened with composed interest never leaving his glance from my face. When I grew silent with conclusion, Dastan did not speak for several moments.

"Do you have this dagger with you?" he asked after thoughtfully scanning the room. I pulled the weapon from the folds of my garments and handed it to him. Dastan scrutinized the etched blade with curiosity, the gleam of the handle glinted gold against his tanned cheek. After long minutes of admiring the dagger, he slipped it behind his back obscuring it with his silk woven brown robe.

"I'm not sure what this all means, but in the meantime, let's not speak of it," he decided and gestured toward the bed where a pile of garments were folded neatly in a pile. "Your attire for the banquet. It seems my father has left his prayers to come join us here."

"The King is here?" I wondered in awe.

"Just arrived, actually. He is not too pleased with the invasion and the discovery of the Princess's body is not sitting well with him, but he has consented to this feast promising the Alumutians that the Princess will receive a proper funeral," Dastan explained distractedly as if something bothered him. Doubt crept into his handsome face, making his forehead wrinkle with worry. I was about to ask him what was the matter when he gestured to the clothes on the bed once again.

"You should dress. I will send an escort for you," Dastan suggested and a faint smile formed on his lips. "Keep your face hidden. The High Priestess is attending the banquet in honor of the Princess and from what you have just revealed to me, I do not believe I can entirely trust her."

Dastan took another long look at me and then disappeared out the door. I stared at the empty space that he had just occupied for a few more minutes and then finally whirled around and reached for the garments that awaited me.

**©yourlipbalm 2010. All rights reserved. Distribution of any kind is prohibited without the written consent of yourlipbalm.**


	11. A Magic Dagger

**A/N: Wow, it's been awhile since the last time I updated, but thank you for all who replied. It does make me want to write more and more. I have been on hiatus for a bit, but hopefully I can now continue to share this story with you all. Thank you for taking the time to read and review. Enjoy!**

**Destiny**

_A Prince of Persia Fanfiction_

_**011 A Magic Dagger**_

I stood motionless amid the crowded nobles who were conversing gaily, exchanging stories with raucous laughter and grins of delight. Lavishly garbed men with red and brown turbans and exquisitely designed robes stood in groups as passing female servants weaved their way around with trays of an immense variety of fruits enough to feed a small city. Dancers in brightly colored gowns sashayed around the large room, their sashes flowing as if the wind was blowing through. Flaming candles in polished chandeliers lit the large reception room in a bath of shadowed light. The flickering illumination revealed garlands of red and white blooms that hung on the high vaulted ceiling supported by large smooth columns. Standing against the walls were armed soldiers who were haphazardly looking around, not in the slightest bit troubled.

The decorated balcony where I stood looked over the central area where a large tasseled parasol hung. Underneath, sat the King on a dais laden with huge cushions. The gold leaf pattern on his sleeves and back glittered in the candlelight and the gold crown on his head glimmered as the large encrusted jewels shone brilliantly. I stared at him with awe, not believing that this man governed an entire empire. Despite the King's old age; his manner was regal and majestic, his tone of voice was rich with candor, and within his eyes lives a wisdom that stains the lives of all those who have ever had the beneficial chance of partaking such knowledge.

I suddenly cringed as my gaze fell on the figure of the High Priestess. She stood next to King Sharaman, a smile of forced elation on her features. Discarding the navy clothes she had worn earlier for robes of deep gold threaded with silhouettes of silver jasmine, Taya looked much younger. Her face was painted with bronze and rose hues and her long hair was braided behind her back in tendrils of shimmering black. Although, she radiated with beauty and innocence, her dark secret could not disguise the loathing that burned in my chest. I suddenly had the strong urge to cry out and announce that the Princess's murderer stood in this very room, but doubt quickly smothered that thought away. Who would believe a nobody such as me? I had no concrete evidence to prove her guilt. The only witness to the High Priestess's treachery was now gone. Anguish rendered within me as Eina's face flashed across the pages of my memory.

Forcing those uncomfortable images away, I tore my glare from the smiling face of the High Priestess and searched the vast room for Dastan. After several moments of seeking, I found him standing off to the side speaking with a bald man in black garments stitched with yellow trim. The man had a striking resemblance to the King, but his demeanor was more detached and withdrawn. I realized this must be Nizam; brother to the King and uncle to Dastan. They both smiled at something Nizam said and then Dastan was called over to King Sharaman. I watched with interest as Father and Son conversed in low tones. As if giving the pair some privacy, Taya had suddenly disappeared and then reemerged by the side of Nizam.

Taking a few short steps ahead, I peered through the shifting bodies trying to discern what was going on when King Sharaman suddenly praised his third son loudly on such a successful invasion. Cheers and applause echoed through the room as Dastan's grin warmed my heart. A bundle of garments were then presented to the King from his son as a present. A beautiful cloak of ivory and sequins cascaded down to the marble floor as the prayer robe of Alumut's regent hung from King Sharaman's shoulders. The crowd marveled at its' intricate elegance; voices of awe resounded near me mixed with sighs of wonder. The noise escalated while everyone began talking at once. I squinted through the moving forms trying better to see this spectacular robe that I did not notice the body that materialized next to me.

"Hello."

I gasped, startled and turned to see Dastan grinning at me. His knack for stealthy surprise will be the death of me as I recovered quickly from astonishment. His fierce ardent stare caused feathery wings to flap in my chest.

"Do you enjoy appearing like a ghost?" I asked. He chuckled and leaned in close. The scent of his skin called forth the longing that slept in my heart. His warm breath on my cheek awakened the desire that simmered beneath the surface.

"Why? Do I frighten you?" Dastan teased, alluringly. I shook my head, my face blazed with heat. He noticed the blush that made me speechless and laughed. "It's alright. You-"

He never finished his sentence, because a commotion drew his attention towards the dais. I followed his gaze and saw chaos unfold. King Sharaman was screaming as smoke spewed from within the decorated robe he wore. He tried to take it off, but shouted in vain as his fingers fumbled with the hem. His neck began to incinerate, the skin turning black revealing red burnt flesh. People scrambled about; some drew away in horror and others pushed and shoved not quite sure what was happening. Cries of terror were drowned as the King's screams grew shriller. Dastan leaped through the throng of bodies toward his father. A man wearing Persian armor reached the King first. The look of utter shock on his face intensified as his hands tried to undo the robe.

"Do not touch it! The robe is poisoned!" a cacophony of voices cried out as guards pulled the stunned man away. He howled in resistance and watched the King writhe on the floor. Dastan finally reached his father and began yelling into the din.

"Someone help him!" The pain and fear in his face and voice were evident as he knelt next to the King. "Help him!"

The tortured emotions on Dastan's features mirrored the ones on the restrained man. With a cry of outrage, he pointed an accusing finger at Dastan and bellowed full of anger.

"The robe, the one you gave Father! You poisoned him!"

Dastan shook his head in bewilderment and threw his hands up in defiance.

"No, Garsiv!"

Before Dastan could do any more, Garsiv gestured to the guards and roared with a voice infested with fury.

"Murderer! Seize him!"

Guards advanced quickly and the sounds of steel unsheathing rung in the air. Dastan darted in between the soldiers who stormed in by the numbers and disappeared from my sight. I stumbled away toward the wall opening onto the balcony and tripped over a fallen chair. Crashing to the floor, the veil that hid my face sailed over my head obstructing my line of sight. Ripping the fabric away and cursing my clumsiness, I realized that the marble balustrade ringing the veranda were inches from my face. Standing up in a flourish, I tried to desperately think of a plan. I searched left and right for an escape route and when finding none, fear seeped into my chest.

"You!" a familiar voice cried out. I turned and spotted the High Priestess standing a few feet away, staring at me with a stunned expression. "How did you get here?" Dread coursed through my body, paralyzing me into numbness. She hastened in my direction, dodging bodies and overturned furniture. I backed up until my back hit the balcony railing and realized I had nowhere else to go. From the pandemonium emerged Dastan; his silk robe flying behind him and the crimson scarf that hung from his neck loose and trailing. He reached me in swift running strides, ducking and eluding the soldiers that followed. Grabbing me by the arm, he swung me around to face the balmy night air.

"We have to jump!" Dastan said and pulled me onto the railing. I looked down into the gloom and gasped.

"Jump?" I breathed and before I could react, Dastan yanked me over the edge. The rush of air was short lived as I heard my own scream pierce the night. The feeling of weightlessness underneath me was something I did not enjoy, but what greeted me next was something I was not expecting. Jolting shock enveloped me as I crashed into the freezing cold waters of a huge fountain. Gasping for air and shivering from the chill, I emerged from the surface. Wiping my face with the back of my hand, I propelled myself to the edge of the basin. Dastan had already jumped out and without effort, he lifted me out and hurried to several stone posts with large statues. I squinted in the dim light and followed. When I drew near, the statues moved and I stepped back in alarm. Whinnying rendered the still calm and I recognized the sleek bodies of horses. Dastan's back melted in and out of the darkness as he slashed at the cord that tied the farthest horse. Voices suddenly echoed through the air and the rush of booted feet vibrated perilously close. The soldiers marched forward, searching the blackness. Dastan mounted the back of the horse and stretched his hand down to me.

"Come," he said and pulled me up so that I sat behind him. Wrapping my arms around his waist, I clutched onto him as he steered the horse away. The voices became fainter as we galloped further. The wetness from the unpredicted bath made my skin colder as the wind whipped by. My lips quivered as I felt the damp of Dastan's clothes on my cheek. A soft whistling shot past us and more of it pursued after as we weaved through the narrow cobblestoned roads of the palace district.

"Get down!" Dastan shouted from the front and leaned to the side. I followed his directions and bent down to the horse's flank. Arrows whizzed by, narrowly missing us. Under the cover of darkness, most of the deadly projectiles did no harm. Soon, we were out of range and racing through the streets. Dastan steered us toward the east and as we neared the inner gate, I discerned remnants of broken and burned wood. Pieces of it lay scattered everywhere, clumps of jagged scraps that marked the siege of the invasion hours earlier. A few soldiers milled about, patrolling the perimeter with little interest. We galloped past the fragments of the inner gate to the outer entry a few yards beyond. More soldiers guarded this entrance and Dastan pulled on the reins slowing us down.

"Open the gate!" he demanded in a commanding tone. The soldiers instantly began unlocking the doors as they recognized who was ordering them. Obviously, these men did not receive word yet of our escape and hastily did what they were told. Encouraging the horse to pick up speed, Dastan yanked on the harness and the horse responded with a loud whinnying. We sped through the city gate and into the awaiting desert.

Night's cloak drowned us in an immense cover of shadows while the illuminated moon showed us the path with glowing certainty. We rode for endless miles past sand dunes that all looked the same. It was not until we reached rocky cliffs rising out of the loose soil with sparse vegetation scattered about as if it was put there as an afterthought that we finally slowed down. Dastan picked an area where a patch of large rocks were scattered in a circle next to some lonely looking trees as a resting stop. I climbed down from the horse and rubbed my stiff legs. Without hesitation, Dastan began gathering pieces of wood from the surrounding area. He said not one word, but judging from his taut lips and steely eyes, anger simmered underneath his exterior.

"Are you alright?" I asked, tentatively, when he returned. Dastan dropped the pile of timber on the pebbled ground and began kindling a fire.

"This is ridiculous!" he spat in disgust. Sighing in disbelief, he finally created flames. Crackling erupted and orange light flickered into life. Dastan stood up, yanked his brown robe off and threw it furiously at the ground. I watched him, cautiously, not sure if I should say or do something.

"I did not kill my father!" he insisted, vehemently. Pacing back and forth in distress, Dastan began protesting his innocence. "I had nothing to do with it! Why would I poison my own father?"

He glanced at me and when I didn't answer, his cobalt eyes widened in accusation.

"You think I did, don't you?"

"I never said that!" I replied, hurt. He had mistaken the guarded look on my face for skepticism. Not once did the thought of him murdering his own father ever enter my mind. I remembered the fondness he spoke of whenever the King was mentioned. I knew he loved his father dearly.

"You never said anything either!" Dastan shouted, rage seething in his pained face. He reached behind his back and retrieved the mysterious dagger. With a nonchalant thrust, he threw the dagger into the ground. The blade sank into the rocky earth, its' jeweled hilt protruded with an eerie gleam.

"Do not take your anger out on me," I replied, trying to quell my own temper. "You are only mad because you have been blamed for something you did not do!"

Dastan let out an impatient sigh and then looked at me, confusion and surprise etched onto his handsome face. He turned left and right, momentarily baffled. I observed him perturbed myself at his sudden lost of rage. His whole demeanor changed as swiftly as the wind; from angry to shock and then awe. Dastan took one quick glance at the dagger still impaled in the ground and then hastily glimpsed out into the night in the direction that we had come from. With a leap and a yell, he ran towards me grabbing the dagger in one smooth move.

"Lillei!" Dastan bellowed and shoved me backwards so hard that we both tumbled to the hard terrain. Within a second after we plunged to the ground, an arrow shot through the silent night and landed on the very spot that I had been standing. Scrambling up in a flurry of sand, Dastan dragged me away from the circle of rocks and the flickering campfire.

"Quickly!" he urged and put his forefinger and thumb into his lips. A sharp whistle echoed into the dark and the sound of hoofs galloping closer reverberated to our left. I was still in a stupor, trying to determine how he had known to push me out of harm's way, when the horse that we had previously been riding appeared from out of the shadows. Faintly now, I could hear distant voices and the neighing of approaching steeds. The thudding of a dozen arrows into tough soil mimicked the singing and flapping of bird's wings, as I realized we had been discovered.

"How did they find us so fast?" I asked and climbed onto the awaiting horse. Dastan jumped up behind me and tugged on the reins.

"Garsiv is the second best tracker in the Empire. He will not stop until he finds me," he answered as the magnificent horse flew across the sand. Our flight was riddled with moments of fleeting relief only to be interrupted with the blinking torches of the pursuit that followed. The landscape of night added unpredictable dangers to our getaway. The rugged paths of the mountains were rocky and loose with stones and debris making it difficult for us to move with a consistent speed. The faraway moon was the only means of brightness to illuminate our path and although it was sufficient light, it did not prevent us from stumbling into fractures created by months of moisture depravity.

Throughout our perilous journey from the circle of rocks, Dastan repeatedly rubbed my left shoulder and I felt a trembling in his body that began to concern me. He was clearly shaken as if he had glimpsed something terrible and couldn't erase it from his memory.

"Are you alright?" I asked, worriedly. Jerking the horse onto a trail barely visible in the dark that wound through a narrow valley of clustered trees, Dastan ignored my question and answered instead.

"There are caves here that we can hide in."

Maneuvering the horse through the concealed path, he led us into a thicket of wood that seemed strange here in this desert wasteland. The sound of trickling water could be heard faintly a few yards away. We dismounted next to a wall of lonely sandstone that was obscured by the surrounding brush. Securing the exhausted horse, we entered a small crevice in the stone that opened into a cramped pocket of sedimentary rock. The layered floor was a surprisingly smooth quartz and as I sat down the coolness from the slabs suddenly chilled me. Dastan took one more glance out into the night and then came to sit next to me.

"Are you alright?" I asked once again still troubled. The sliver of meager light that shone through the crack in the wall did not reach his face so I could not read his expression. He was silent for some time and then I felt his warm fingertips on my wrist.

"When we were back there at the rocks...we were attacked," Dastan began as his touch climbed up my arm sending more chills to race within me and not as a result from the stone beneath me.

"I know we were."

He continued as if he didn't hear me, the tone of his voice growing more pained.

"We were ambushed...three times," Dastan admitted as I listened to him, confused. "Two out of those three times, you were shot with that arrow...here." His fingers stopped on my left shoulder, the one he had been rubbing earlier. My mind went over our earlier escape and it was nothing to what he had just described.

"What are you saying? I don't understand."

"The dagger the Princess gave you, it is incredible. The first time, I grabbed it after you fell and I must have accidentally pressed the jewel on the hilt and suddenly everything was rewinding. The second time, I seized the dagger first but I was too slow because you collapsed onto the sand and there was blood..." Dastan trailed off, his voice faint with remembrance. I could not speak, trying to puzzle the pieces together.

"The third time is what came to pass prior. You would not remember getting hurt, because it never occurred. Only the holder of the dagger is aware of what's happened," Dastan explained. I gawked into the shadows, disbelief coursing through me. He abruptly leaned over and gathered me into his arms with a swiftness that surprised me even more. His skin was warm and his breath was hot against my face.

"If not for the dagger, you would still be back there in the sand...bleeding," he whispered and kissed the top of my head.

_A dagger that rewinds time?_ I pondered with awe. How is that possible? Dastan drew away and shifted with a rustling of garments. The small bit of light caught his face in its' dim glow and within that tiny area of lambent luminosity, the dark terrifying look of fear displayed in his sapphire eyes shone clearly at me. I was at an indecision; the logic of what he had said is so farfetched and yet the conviction of his actions and words persuaded me. Raising my arm, I touched his face with my hand and felt the coolness of his skin underneath my fingertips.

"A gravity defying climb up the royal palace, an elusive escape from your very own soldiers, and now a magic dagger capable of turning back time," I said slowly and teasingly. "I have never glimpsed the face of death so many times with a Prince of Persia. Are you sure you have not taken women on adventures like this?"

The terror in his eyes faded and a grin appeared on his lips. Dastan leaned toward me once again and said with a chuckle.

"No, you are the first."

I smiled welcoming the lighthearted moment. I trusted him with my life this far, what more can an enchanted dagger bring? I suddenly felt his fingers at my waist and slowly moving up to the small of my back. It was only then when he tilted toward me until his mouth enveloped mine was when all emotions of distress, confusion, anxiety and fear ceased. There were only sweet sensations of euphoria and rushing tides of delight that washed away the dark apprehensions. Heated passion fumed within the soft caresses of our two bodies culminating in moments of lustful fondling by Dastan's skillful hands and the faint excited moans that poured forth from my throat. The thrilling ride of our intimacy continued long into the night until sweat flowed down our slick bodies and the beating of our hearts were filled with more than sexual pleasure, but with something much more lasting.

**©yourlipbalm 2010. All rights reserved. Distribution of any kind is prohibited without the written consent of yourlipbalm.**


	12. Tamina

**A/N: Wow, it has been a long time since I updated. I apologize, but my inspiration has been lacking lately. This next chapter is a bit short, but I hope you all enjoy it nonetheless.  
**

**Destiny**

A Prince of Persia Fanfiction

_**012 Tamina**_

The foggy scenery of my jumbled dreams were lifted away with the gentle shaking of my shoulders. My blurred vision fastened onto Dastan's attractive face as disorientation began ebbing away.

"I'm sorry for waking you, but we must be on our way," his voice floated to my ears. I stretched and felt the aches in my muscles contract and then expand. Blinking the last remnants of sleep from my drowsy eyes, I exited the cave after Dastan and squinted into the bright morning light.

"Where are we going next?" I asked and looked off into the trees where the sun's rays sprinkled dappled shadows on the sporadic greenery that littered the ground.

"I have been thinking about what you explained of the Princess and how she gave the dagger into your care," Dastan contemplated, pulling on his bedraggled shirt. Lifting my eyes toward him, I listened as he elaborated. "Why would she be so adamant for the dagger to be taken away from Alumut? Why not just shield it within the city? Why take such measures and lengths to conceal something that can be easily hidden?"

Dastan's voice gradually increased with wonder as he continued with his theory of events.

"Now that I have witnessed the power of this blade, I can understand why the Princess wanted it to be kept safe. With its' ability to turn back time, anyone can use it to alter a specific moment to the liking of the bearer and nobody would ever know. The authority of such a person can even topple a King!" his words gushed out with surprising logic.

He looked at me with apparent wonder; his blue eyes glittered underneath his lashes. Marveling with a newfound discovery, he pressed on excitedly.

"Our siege upon the city of Alumut was not about supplying weapons, it was about this dagger!" Dastan reasoned in a rush. "Tus gave me that robe before the banquet to give to Father as a traditional gift. _He_ did this! He murdered Father for the possession of this dagger."

"But why? Why would he kill your father?" I wondered, confused.

"With Father out of the way, Tus can wield the immense power of the blade to his hearts' content. As King and with the dagger in his hold, he can control the world for himself!" Dastan lowered his gaze to the golden sand underneath our feet. The enthusiasm that just moments ago beamed in his eager eyes dimmed and gloom crawled into his handsome face like a shadow that clung to the dark corners of grief.

"I was too late to save him," he muttered and grew silent. I reached out and traced my fingers against the side of his face.

"You cannot blame yourself," I comforted. He stretched his own hand to encase them over mine. I quivered at his touch, relishing the sentiment that it created in my heart. Dastan searched my face, staring into my eyes as if seeking to find something there. After several moments of inquisitive probing, a small smile appeared at the corners of his luscious lips. He drew away and began securing the fastenings on our trusty horse.

"When I used the dagger, it released sand," he said and patted the horses' flank. "Yesterday, I used up all the sand in our flight. This morning, I tried filling it up with regular sand, but it did not work. The dagger must require a special kind of sand for it to function."

Dastan peered over his shoulder at me and frowned. He bit his lip in frustration and shifted his glare from my face to the surrounding trees that lined the sparse craggy oasis.

"I need to get to Avrat. My father's funeral would be held there," Dastan pondered. "My uncle, Nizam, would know what to do." He beckoned with his hand. "Come, we should go." I took his hand and climbed atop the horse with difficulty. Adjusting the reins, he shifted in the saddle and coaxed the steed forward. I wrapped my arms around his waist and murmured with concern as we trotted through the underbrush.

"If anyone should recognize you there, they'll take you captive."

"They can certainly try, but this is the only way to prove my innocence," he replied. I clung onto his back, enjoying the jostling of the momentum of the horses' stride. The wind on my face felt tremendously good as the sun climbed higher into the scorching sky.

"There is a faster way to approach Avrat. We will have to go through the Valley of the Slaves," Dastan revealed. "It is dangerous country, nothing but vicious savages and bloodthirsty mongrels at every turn." I stiffened slightly, uncomfortable at the thought. He must have felt my taut body and chuckled softly.

"Relax. I will be there to fight them off with my charming good looks and witty comments."

I smiled at his humor and felt him pat my leg affectionately.

"I hope you have better things up your sleeve than that," I joked.

"If all else fails, there are the swords," Dastan mentioned at the scabbards that protruded from the sides of the saddle. My smile widened and I teased.

"Oh, those. And here I thought those were only for show."

His laughter echoed in the silent air, a musical sound that filled my chest with joy. Dastan regarded me over his shoulder with mischievous eyes.

"Listen, you. Carry on with this banter, and you're walking."

Now it was my turn to giggle. I rested my head on his back and felt warmth seep into me. The solidity of his body soothed and satisfied me as we continued through the immense desert. Princess Aara's instructions floated back into my mind. _You must take the dagger to the ancient guardian sanctuary in the Hindu Kush. Seek out a woman named Tamina in the Valley of the Slaves._ The last ember of life that flickered in her eyes flashed across my vision like a dying light that was unexpectedly snuffed out. I pushed the sad images away and tightened my embrace around Dastan's waist.

The scorching rays of the sun beat down on us as we approached the Valley of the Slaves. As we continued through the desolate terrain, a palpable lull of sinister silence permeated the mysterious dunes. The whisper of death echoed in the meager wind, revealing protruding pale bones and fragments of discarded and torn clothing that stuck up from the sand like markers of ancient graves. The farther into the valley we rode, the more the landscape began to change. The soft supple sand hardened into broken, rock-bound stone. Debris littered the rugged and scabrous ground in patches that consisted of aged tree trunks and slabs of sandstone that were once the structures of abandoned huts. Cracked low walls jutted out from the gravel as if standing lonely and lost amidst a crumbling world. The faded path that we rode on was barely visible, cluttered with chunks of rubbish and fragments of deserted ruins.

"What a mess," Dastan muttered, scanning the remains shrewdly with a watchful glare. The sound of chafing erupted loudly, magnified by the stillness. Dastan jerked his head to the right, hunting for the source of the sound. Movement behind a cluster of dilapidated buildings shifted and the neighing of horses burst forth as a dozen riders appeared from everywhere. The thunder of hoofs echoed alongside the yells of worn robed men. Dust collected around us, obscuring the visages of the company that penned us in. Dastan steadied our frightened steed and tugged at the leather restraints. I squinted through the particles of grit trying to discern the faces of the figures. When the fog settled, a large man ushered his horse forward, an amused expression on his weathered features. His garments were tattered in places and the once bright colors were faded and dull. The turban upon his head was dirty and caked with grime.

"Well, look what we have here," he bellowed, his voice impish and slathered with pleasure. "Persians, you know what this valley is? And you enter still?" The man's roguish glare scrutinized Dastan and then examined me with interest. I shrank behind Dastan, panic began to boil within me.

"Lovely girl you have there," the man said and smiled. Gold glinted from several places where teeth used to be. "She will make a nice addition to my flock. Don't you think Tamina?" he suggested airily and gestured to a small figure sitting upon a horse next to him. I was too preoccupied with the man to notice the person beside him until now. Long flowing fabric encased the delicate face, revealing only dark probing eyes. Sitting rigid upon the harness, the slim figure stared at us with veiled curiosity.

"You already have enough serving girls, Sheik Amar," a soft female voice responded.

"Oh, one more won't hurt," Sheik Amar replied, and waved her comment aside. I studied the woman carefully, and then spoke.

"Tamina?"

**©yourlipbalm 2010. All rights reserved. Distribution of any kind is prohibited without the written consent of yourlipbalm.**


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